The Secret Life of Kate Walsh's Number 1 Fan
by KarenBCN
Summary: A nod to Walter Mitty.  Only SERIOUS Kate fans will get this.


"You'll catch me, and we'll fall onto the bed," Kate instructed Ryan, who was playing her boyfriend in her fragrance campaign. She turned to walk across the room, needing to get a running start to jump into his arms.

Kate turned and ran, squealing in surprise just as she leapt. Ryan had disappeared; it was Neil who caught her, Neil's arms that wrapped around her.

"Babe, what are you doing?" she asked, trying to push out of his arms.

But he wouldn't release her. "I'm not going to let you do these love scenes with another man." He bent to nuzzle her nuzzly night-blooming jasmine neck. "I'm going to be the one kissing you and rolling on the bed with you. On the show you play doctor with half a dozen men, but here you're playing doctor just with me. You're playing doctor . . . doctor . . . doctor . . ."

". . . Doctor Duffy!"

Karen blinked, looking up at her students. "Someone have a question?"

"The screen saver came on. We can't see the quiz."

Karen moved the mouse, glancing around to see if the students were almost done. That blasted Twitter icon kept coming to mind. She'd been drooling over the image of Kate in the man's arms ever since it had become Boyfriend's avatar. It was so romantic and sensual. And she hadn't been able to help admiring the curve of his derriere. It had been a shock to discover it didn't belong to Neil. For weeks she'd admired a butt under false pretenses.

Karen collected the Spanish quizzes, dreading the grading that would follow class. And even worse, she was giving a chapter test this afternoon. Maybe she should listen to her students' pleas and give fewer tests.

She was hungry after class, but lunchtime was more than an hour away. But sometimes someone left treats in the supply room. Depositing her books on her desk, she went to see.

In the middle of the table was a plate of . . . wow! Red velvet cupcakes. Karen took one, her mouth watering in anticipation.

"There it is!"

Karen froze as Kate Walsh took the red velvet cupcake from her. "We need this for the next Boyfriend video," she said, placing the cupcake in a small box and undoing the top button of the man's striped shirt she wore. "Can you do me a favor?" she asked the starstruck professor.

"Um, yeah. Anything!"

"Can you find a Post-it and write 'Eat me' on it?"

"Sure." Karen took a stack of Post-its from the shelf behind her and wrote the requested command on the top one.

"Thank you," Kate said with a smile as she took the yellow square.

The softness of Kate's skin immediately caught Karen's attention as their hands touched briefly. Jojoba oil, she wondered. No—that was the cheap option. Emu oil? Or maybe . . . "Are you wearing the Boyfriend body cream?"

"Yeah. Can you smell it?"

Karen leaned in and caught a delicate whiff of juicy plum overlaying night-blooming jasmine followed by a nuzzly vanilla and sandalwood scent. "That's the body cream?"

"Yeah. It's one of my favorites."

Karen was beginning to relax a bit. Kate was so genuine that her beauty was like a warm glow rather than a blinding sun. "I think I'd like the pulse point oil."

"Oooohhh, yes!" She held up her wrist for the other girl to sample. "You put it right where you want it, and it lasts forever. It's one of my favorites. I actually like to wear it with the body lotion. Then the lotion is kind of like a sauce on the side."

Karen nodded. "This must be a phenomenal amount of work."

"It is. Hey, listen—I need another assistant to help with this. Are you interested?"

Karen's head spun. Kate Walsh's assistant. Her dream job. It was 15 years before official retirement from teaching, but she'd saved, and maybe Kate wouldn't charge her much for the privilege. She'd be able to lighten Kate's load, and she'd be able to get to know this incredibly beautiful, hard-working, intelligent, self-deprecating, funny, talented . . .

"Kate, I . . . I'd love to. Thank you. And . . . Kate . . . Kate . . ."

A giggle made her blink. "You told me that I look like Kate Walsh, but I can't believe you called me Kate!"

Karen shook her head. "I'm sorry, Miranda. My, uh, my mind was somewhere else." She glanced down and then surreptitiously picked up and crumpled the Post-it that read "Eat me." "Do you need something?"

"I was just wondering if you needed me to interpret any more of Kate's expressions like 'baller alert.'"

"Um, no, thanks." She looked at her watch. "My next class has show and tell. Will you grade a set of quizzes while they do it?"

Half an hour later Karen had Miranda settled with a pen and a set of papers, and she sat down and prepared herself for an hour of presentations and descriptions in Spanish of cell phones, family pictures, and stuffed animals.

Karen was stifling a yawn when a girl walked to the front of the room carrying a cat. "Este es mi gato," the girl began. "Es un chico. Es amarillo . . ."

As Karen watched, the cat looked toward the door and said, "Ay, Mami."

Karen blinked, trying to clear her mind. And then she saw Kate enter the room and go to the cat. "Pablo, ¿por qué no me esperaste en el coche?"

Karen stood. "Uh, Kate, um . . . you speak Spanish?"

"Only cat Spanish." She scratched Pablo's head. "I was wondering if you'd teach me Spanish."

"I'd love to! When do you want me to start?"

"As soon as you can. I'd like to have lessons while I'm at the studio, so you'll probably have to watch some of my scenes while you wait for me."

Karen's eyes nearly popped out. "I-I think I can handle that."

"And you'll need to stay in my pool house so that we can do lessons whenever I'm home."

Karen was feeling lightheaded. "I-I'll start preparing lessons right away. I know you'll want to be able to—querrás poder comunicarte con el Pez."

Kate frowned a bit. "What does 'el Pez' mean?"

"The Fish."

"Fish? Fish . . ."

". . . isn't it, Dr. Duffy?"

Karen's head jerked toward the voice. "Um, what, Samantha?"

"You said 'pez' was 'fish.' Isn't it 'pescado'?"

"'Pescado' is for a fish that's been caught." OK, so maybe "el Pescado" was better for Neil. She frowned at the girl in the front of the room holding a fish bowl. What had happened to Pablo? Had he followed . . .

A meow caught her attention, and she turned to see the cat on the student's shoulder. She wondered how the presentation had gone.

Karen knew she couldn't afford to keep letting her mind wander. Departure for Barcelona with a group of 18 students was this Saturday, and she had a ton to do.

The airport was a nightmare, as usual, and she got to the gate barely an hour before departure. Not all of her students were there, so she had to go in search of them. She spotted the last three buying food. "You guys need to get to the gate—now! They're about to start boarding."

As she herded them toward the gate, she caught a glimpse of a familiar redhead. She took a step in her direction but then stopped. This was not the time to drift into L.A.-L.A. land. With effort, she turned away and headed toward the gate. She had to stop seeing Kate everywhere. Seriously. What would Kate Walsh be doing eating a Chick-Fil-A sandwich in the Atlanta airport, anyway?


End file.
